Zero
by BrokenRose99
Summary: A courier on Omega, Nix is no one special. When a run goes bad, she's resigned to her fate. But for whatever reason, death ignores her, and she is saved by one of the very ones who attacked her in the first place. The only question is... Why? A humanOCxTurianOC romance with a terrible summary.
1. Screwed

**AN: Hello, people of the Mass Effect fanfiction archive! I am your glorious host, BrokenRose99! Alright, enough showboating. So, if you haven't read the summary, (which I hope you did, else you being here would seem rather silly) this is OC centric. That means little to no Shep beyond the briefest of cameos or mentions in passing. All events in this story are set to take place in the same universe as the games, so if you see any little glitches between this and the main timeline/plot majigger, please let me know.**

**Anywhosit, that's really all I have to say. I want to thank my wondrous beta R3aper for helping me out with this, and I hope you, the reader, enjoy!  
**

**Gah! Totally forgot, I don't own Mass Effect, BioWare does!  
**

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_**~Chapter 1: Screwed~**_

Living on Omega, it was pretty needless to say that Nix had been through some rough shit. Being (fatally) shot on the job, however? That was a new one on her.

It took them a minute to come down and take the package she'd been on her way to deliver. There were three of them, Blue Suns mercs, two humans and a Turian. Their un-helmeted human leader slung the sniper rifle that he'd used to break through Nix's kinetic barrier onto his back before brandishing the stolen cargo in front of her face.

"Not your lucky day girlie," he sneered, kneeling down to look at her eyes. He had a buzzed head and a mean five o'clock shadow. His head was decorated with more than a few scars, and his breath stank worse than Cenobia's.

Nix's response was to spit the blood that had been pooling in her mouth onto his disgusting face. The Turian let out an amused bark of laughter.

The lead merc stood up with a snarl, his face now red with his own anger as well as her spittle. He delivered a swift kick to the courier's already wounded abdomen. Nix acted as if she didn't feel a thing. She turned her head up to the merc, offering a sanguine, blood-stained smile.

The merc cursed her and prepared to kick her again, but then the other human clapped a hand onto his shoulder and shook his head. "No point," he said without emotion.

The leader turned to the Turian, but the alien gave no further commentary. The un-helmeted human gave her another disdainful glare, then angrily stormed away with his lackeys in tow.

With her assailants out of earshot, Nix let out a bitterly amused laugh. She knew she shouldn't have taken the job from that Batarian merchant. At the time however, she had needed the money desperately, and he'd agreed to pay in advance. If she hadn't taken the run, this would have been her last night instead of now. That he would be willing to pay so much in advance should have tipped her off that it would be dangerous.

Nix's laugh degenerated into a coughing fit, which in turn metamorphosed into a desperate battle not to choke on her own blood. After she'd made sure she didn't suffocate, the courier propped herself up against the alleyway wall and probed her marred abdomen. Yep, shot in the stomach with no medi-gel on hand and a limited range of movements that wouldn't kill her _faster_. Nix was screwed.

Not that death was a big deal to her. Sure, the woman wanted to prolong her life as long as possible, but she didn't have any reason to. Nix was just another street rat human with no familial ties to speak of. The only other living thing she really interacted with was a dog that could feed and take care of itself with or without her intervention.

Nope, dying was no problem at all. Come to think of it, she was pretty tired... Maybe she should close her eyes and die in the sweet nothingness of sleep. Yes, a sound idea, that.

A few moments later she heard the telltale noise of footsteps, no doubt someone who would stop to pat down her warm corpse for creds and any other valuables she might have on her. It didn't matter anyway. She was already losing consciousness. Nix's mind fell into darkness with the memory of Cenobia's soft fur under her fingertips.

...

The courier later woke to find that she was alive, and mildly disappointed about it. Nix was kind of happy, but being resigned to her fate, she was _also_ kind of looking forward to finding out what lurked beyond the veil of life. A missed opportunity, but it had quite the significant silver lining.

It was at this moment that the courier noticed that she wasn't lying on cold, hard, metallic pavement. Instead, Nix lay on what passed for an operating table on Omega, drowsy as hell. The room she was in looked tainted with the typical dirt and grit that seemed to permeate everything, and most likely every_one_, on the space station. The edifice was small, barely large enough to house more than two other people besides the one lying on the table. The rest of the space housed a few cabinets filled with medicine and surgical implements of all shapes and sizes.

Soon after she finished her inspection of her current location, tired and confused as she was, Nix concluded she was in the care of one of Omega's many 'doctors'. They weren't really doctors, in fact most were just idiots with limited medical training selling overpriced cosmetic surgery. The only _good_ doctors were claimed by the mercs, or Aria, or anyone else who could afford to pay them a steady wage. Judging from the room, and the fact that Nix was still breathing, this guy was probably in the latter category, which meant she would have to shell out the big bucks if she didn't want more mercs on her ass. No one practiced goodwill here, after all.

Flight crossed Nix's mind. The courier couldn't afford any price the 'good' doctor asked, not to mention the repayment of the person that had brought her here. This in mind, she moved slightly and found that it was difficult. Her stomach was wrapped in a fresh bandage and hurt less, but it was still painful enough to strongly discourage quick movements. She wouldn't be able to escape. The courier was screwed. Again.

Suddenly the sounds of a conversation wafted into the human's ears. She couldn't make out the words, but she could tell that both speakers were men. Curious, Nix turned herself on the table, trying to be quiet as to not alert the talking duo, as well as trying to be gentle on her wound. Eventually she was in a position facing the entrance to the pea-sized room she currently occupied. The woman could just barely make out the words.

"...can't keep pulling this shit Zaith," came a voice that most likely belonged to a human from how smooth it sounded. "My favors are for you only, not random people you find lying in the street."

A Turian, presumably Zaith, answered, "Alley, Bast. I found her in an alley." Oh. They were talking about Nix. The courier was suddenly straining her ears to hear more, fully awake.

"Semantics."

"Anyway, this just means that you owe me one less, why are you complaining?"

"Because _you_ pissed off Daro when you laughed at him earlier, and when he finds out she's still alive, he's going to be livid and shoot the nearest body, which may, or may not be _me_!"

"What do you want me to do, kiss his boots and say I'm sorry?" the Turian rebutted.

Wait a minute. He laughed? The Turian was the one who laughed. Maybe Nix should be grateful that she'd amused him enough and that he hated his supposed boss enough to help her, but he was a merc. And mercs always want their pay. Not to mention he let her get shot in the first place.

"I just want to know why you decided to save her." Nix was certainly intrigued. Knowing the Turian's ulterior motive might help her get out of paying him back, or at least give her some forewarning.

"I like her," the turian answered.

"You like her?"

He likes me? thought Nix.

"Yeah, I think she's... what's that word you humans use? Cute I think."

Nix was suddenly very perplexed. He was a Turian. And even on Omega, humans and Turians weren't very lovey dovey. If that's what he expected from her in return, he could kiss the courier's ass goodbye. Probably would want to.

There was a slight pause before the human replied to his Turian friend's thoughts. "You're crazy."

"Pretty much."

"So you're using me to get laid?"

The Turian laughed. "Although I would love for that to be the case, she probably won't give me more than a passing thank you in return for my services… and your services too, of course."

Got that right, thought Nix.

"How do you figure that?"

"If you'd seen her get shot, you would know."

"She got a heart of stone?"

"Yup."

"Then she's right up your alley... and that was not meant to be a pun."

She could almost feel the smugness in the returning answer. "You keep telling yourself that."

"I will. …In the meantime, her anesthesia has probably worn off. Wanna go visit your conquest?"

"Don't say it like that..." the Turian said in mock dejection before Nix stopped listening.

Quickly, the courier repositioned herself to the approximate of her original pose and closed her eyes. Something told her they wouldn't appreciate her eavesdropping.

The door opened and the duo stepped inside. "Still asleep?" the human asked.

"Looks like it."

"So wake her up then, I have better things to do than attend every person you drop in my lap for days at a time."

The Turian snorted. "Of course you do," he remarked sarcastically. "That's why you're always home alone. You're just busy. Fine, I brought her here after all."

Nix felt a gloved, three fingered hand shake her arm. She feigned waking up for a few seconds, her eyelids blinking at the 'unfamiliar' surroundings. She was greeted with a turian smirk when she'd finally 'gotten her bearings'. "Good morning."

The Turian was in the standard issue Blue Suns armor, although he had sprayed his own pattern of green and dark blue onto the left shoulder-plate. He was of black coloring and forest green eyes - the kind of color you could only see in old vids. He was bare-faced, but his gaze was less arrogant than the merc leader who shot her. Still, Nix was wary, and turned her head to the room's other occupant.

The human - Bast? - wore the usual doctor attire, a skintight, more stylish form of scrubs. He had semi long brown hair and bangs that hung slightly in his face. He looked insanely tired, his hazel eyes bloodshot with dark bags hanging under them. Bast had a light stubble, probably because he was too busy to shave every three seconds.

"Hello Miss," Bast began in true doctor fashion, "I'm Sebastian Martì, the guy who made sure you didn't bite it," that ending however, was certainly not.  
The Turian cut in suddenly, grabbing Nix's attention again. "And I'm Zaith Rangda, the guy who brought you here," he said with a smile.

And the guy who let me get shot, Nix added darkly in her head.  
Bast shot Zaith an annoyed look before continuing. "Right... anyway, would you mind telling me your name ma'am?"

The courier made a point of only looking at Bast before answering, albeit _after_ scoffing at his not-so-formal formality. "Nix," she croaked, her voice dry from sleep and years of disuse.

The doctor seemed skeptical of the name Nix had chosen for herself. She had pondered leaving a fake name, but what would be the point? The likelihood of her ever meeting these two again after escaping or paying her debts was slim to none anyway.

"Okay then… 'Nix', I'm sure you're wondering where you are."

"Not really," was her response. A normal person would have freaked out by regaining consciousness in an unfamiliar room filled with unfamiliar people, one of which whom wanted to screw you. But, quite frankly, _Nix_ didn't care _where_ she was, or _who_ was here at the moment. She just wanted to leave.

"Okay…," the doctor gave Zaith a look that said, _you're _attracted_ to this?_ "Well then… I'm positive you don't want to be here any longer than necessary, so how about you let me take a look at your stomach and then you can leave."

Nix nodded cooperatively – this man was intuitive, she'd give him that – and tried to prop herself up, finding herself unable to do so without pain. Zaith tried to help her, but the woman shrugged him off and soldiered her way on her own. After a few more agonizing seconds, Nix was able to put herself into a position that could be construed as sitting. It was good enough for Bast.

The tired looking man gave her bandage a once over before scanning her with his Omni-Tool. "Pretty much just as I thought. You're healing, and a hell of a lot more stable than when Zaith dragged you here a few days ago, but you won't be able to move on your own."

Nix cursed out loud, especially at the word _days_, and the doctor laughed. "That's just what I was thinking. Luckily for you…" Bast moved up beside Zaith and clapped him on the shoulder, "Mr. Rangda here is a perfect gentleman, and would be happy to escort you." When he finished, the doctor had a Cheshire grin glowing on his face, and Zaith looked like he'd just won the lottery.

The same could not be said for Nix. To say that she was opposed to the idea was a fairly large understatement. However, she was quite certain Bast wasn't going to do anything about her movement aside from proposing Zaith's intervention. Which meant she had no choice. Which meant she was screwed (though hopefully not in _that_ manner) yet again.

Damn it.

Zaith had no such misgivings, and as such moved to help Nix up from her resting place. Due to the room's puny size, this caused Bast to back out of the pseudo medical bay. The merc was surprisingly gentle with her, taking the utmost care not to cause her any more undue harm. Nix chalked this tenderness up to the Turian's odd whim to get into her pants.

Soon enough, the courier was back on her feet, arm slung around Zaith's neck with his resting lightly around her waist. Walking out of the room was rather difficult. Moving in tandem would be quite hard with the difference between Zaith's tall armored form and confidant gait to Nix's comparatively small body and shifty movements. Eventually they were able to make it out of the room, and the courier only winced in agonizing pain three or four times. When the two emerged from the hole, Nix found that she was not in some dodgy merc base, but a simple apartment, albeit a messy one.

"I apologize for my friend's home's state. Bast doesn't get many visitors," Zaith explained to the courier.

Bast, who had been impatiently waiting for them by the door to the med bay/closet, answered with, "I resent that."

"Of course you do."

"Well, I don't normally work from my apartment, so excuse me if I don't feel your compulsive need to keep everything completely sterile."

"But you're a doctor."

"When I come home, I like to leave my work behind me. Now then, if you two would follow me to the door..."

That small amount of banter suddenly had Nix hoping she wouldn't die of an infection or some other ridiculous nonsense after surviving all of this crap. Her doubts were soon pushed to the side by the effort of movement, her stomach catching fire with every tiny misstep.

Bast suddenly stopped in front of them and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn, almost forgot…" He circled around the limping duo and returned to the medical hovel. Zaith chuckled lightly at his friend's forgetfulness, but said nothing.

Upon his return, Bast held out an unmarked bottle that rattled, as if it contained pills. "Here, take these," he said, placing the plastic container into her free hand. "They're painkillers, but only take one a day, and don't take _any_ until you've gotten home and locked your door."

Nix couldn't resist asking the obvious question. "Why?"

The doctor sighed. "Well, since you were such a short notice patient," he glared at Zaith, who responded with an innocent look, "I didn't have any time to get more of my regular painkillers. These are the only ones I have left and they have some… hallucinogenic… properties."

The courier gave him a look that clearly asked him if he really expected her to take the pills.

Bast shrugged. "It's your choice whether or not to utilize them, but just realize you're already on a painkiller at the moment, a little side effect from your anesthesia. If you think you feel like crap right now, just wait a few hours and you'll know what pain _really _feels like."

Nix stared at him. That was really the only response she could think of, not just her preference. Bast ignored her and led them to the door once more.

After some more agony, they arrived at the exit, and Nix was surprised by how desperately thankful she was about leaving this damn apartment that she hadn't even known existed until a few moments ago.

The doctor gave them an appraising look before opening the barrier to the Omegan streets and gesturing outside. "Not that it hasn't been such a great time availing you to my services as a healer, free of charge, but now, if you would please, get the hell out of my house."

Nix said nothing as usual, although she was quite thankful she didn't need to shell out any creds, but Zaith got in one more sarcastic remark. "You're such a charmer Bast, you must get all the ladies."

"Shut up and leave."

Zaith and Nix obliged, and the door was slammed and locked as soon as they crossed the threshold.

Luckily for Nix, Bast lived on the second floor of his complex instead of the very top, so the trip down the stairs was painful, but short. As the two left the lobby of the building, Zaith begged a question of her. "So… where to?"

Nix wasn't much one for talking, but it was necessary at this point. In between winces as they walked out, she answered, "Markets, near Harrott's place. I'll know where to go from there."  
Zaith gave her a small nod and a smile. He didn't seem to react when she didn't return it, and the walk started in blissful silence. Nix kind of expected it. This was an awkward experience for both of them, even if Zaith didn't know exactly why _she_ was uncomfortable.

The first part of the trek was spent trying to gain some sort of rhythm so Nix didn't jostle around too much as she walked. Their differences in height were real obstacles, but eventually the two were able to move quickly enough without irritating her wound. Afterwards, to distract herself from the loathing she felt for her 'rescuer', Nix tried to memorize every little nook and cranny of this unfamiliar part of the station. It was odd to find a place she didn't know like the back of her hand, as her job required such a thing for her to be successful. This part of town was either so nice that the people living here didn't require a personal courier… or so bad that none of her employers would dare take a job from here.

And yet, despite the unknown pattern of the streets and alleys, buildings and alcoves, the area was still utterly the same in style. Streets filled with dirt and grime, long shadows capable of hiding any number of nasty things, the passers by all having the same, slightly pissed off look that warned off predators, and of course the few stares of people loitering near walls, in corners, all appraising the walkers as prey waiting to be hunted. But these stares were few indeed, much less menacing and bold than what Nix would receive near home. Perhaps this _was_ a nice area.

The courier was quite aware that she and Zaith were easy targets. Nix was slightly thankful for the Turian's Blue Suns armor. Easy prey or no, no one messed with a Sun that looked like he knew his shit. The nice big pistol on his hip helped as well.

Silence wore on. Nix was fine with it, reveled in it in fact, but the lack of noise to fill the air seemed to grate on Zaith's nerves. And so, much to the courier's chagrin, the merc decided to try to start a conversation. "So Nix," he began in his usual, easy and conversational manner, "What do you do for a living?"

Nix didn't really want to answer, but if she humored him, the turian might shut up faster. "Courier," she grunted, half out of gruffness, half out of slight pain now that she'd taken the slightest amount of attention away from walking.

"Any specifics?"

Poor boy really wasn't getting the hint. "Nope."

He seemed to mull that over before shrugging and starting to continue their chat. Apparently Zaith was desperate to have some kind of noise in the air, and his own flanged voice was the best he could do at the moment.

"Well..." he said hesitantly, "I'm a merc, as you probably know..."

Bingo, Captain Obvious, thought Nix.

"We're not really all that bad. Some of us are egotists, but the rest treat it just as a job."

Like you? the courier wanted to ask sarcastically, So you were only doing your _job_ when you _shot_ me?

Zaith continued, "I admit that the public image isn't that great when it comes to mercs. You're probably wondering why a selfish gun-for-hire like me helped you out."  
"Not really." It was the truth, after all she already knew why, and as a side bonus, being cold might get Zaith to shut the hell up.

Suddenly the turian stopped moving, forcing Nix to stop as well before she did anything to rupture her stomach. He turned his head to her and gave the courier another one of those wicked looking turian smiles that always seemed to put other humans on edge, but which had almost never bothered her.

"Liar," he responded smugly. Dammit. He didn't really think she was just being coy, did he? Nix's answer was, as always, silence.

Surprisingly, Zaith clammed up as well. The courier could think of only one reason he had lapsed into blissful quiet. It _is_ pretty hard to find a tactful way to say, sorry I got you shot, wanna fuck?

Thankfully, Zaith lost his momentum and didn't continue. Nix then put all of her focus into her steps to make sure she wasn't jostled too hard again. It didn't take them very long to reach the markets, emerging from an alley the courier had never had cause to explore. Now that they were here, two things had occurred to her. The first; the fact that Bast didn't live in Blue Suns territory, which was perplexing and didn't matter nearly as much, and the second; that she would still need Zaith to help her home. And then he would know where she lived. Shit.

Perhaps some of sort of questioning look had dawned on her features for the few seconds she wasn't paying attention, for Zaith gave her another grin.

"Wondering why Bast doesn't live on our turf?" he inquired.

Nix gave him a blank look. The turian was not deterred. As he led the courier to Harrott's place, he explained, "Dr. Martì doesn't like to be shackled down by commitments to large organizations. He's good at his job and the Suns pay him a lot of creds for his skills, but in order for him to keep himself away from the Suns having his sole allegiance, he bribes Aria so he can live in her nice little independent area. The bribe is also why his apartment is so shit. Can't afford anything better." Zaith let out a small chuckle at his friend's expense when he finished. Nix refrained.

Harrott's store was closed when they finally stumbled to it. The courier stared at it blankly for a few seconds. Harrott almost never closed up shop, even if he wasn't around. Nix pondered what that meant before asking Zaith exactly how long she'd been out.

The turian seemed surprised that she was the one asking the questions now, but still answered, "Three days, and a few hours besides. Why?"

"I had an appointment," and a job offer, but Nix didn't say more than she already had. Zaith accepted her minimal answer with little more than a raised brow ridge. He was certainly learning fast.

Her small musings satisfied for now, Nix gently urged her living crutch towards the residential district. It was rather funny actually. The courier lived in Suns territory, paid 'protection' to them, and still all this crap ended up happening.

Zaith had a look of disbelief on his face when he figured out where they were heading. "You live here?" he said, incredulously gesturing his free arm to their surroundings. "I can't believe a beauty like you was living right under my nose and I didn't even notice."

Nix ignored his flirting and led him toward her little cranny in relative silence. Her home was based at the end of a deep alleyway, the door barely noticeable in the darkness of the back corner. The courier had moved in only a few months ago, after a plague that had killed a lot of aliens but left humans untouched. It happened to leave a few 'vacant' apartments, so when Nix saw this little edifice she couldn't help herself and squatted. Unfortunately, the 'rent' was really high, not to mention the _extra_ protection money she had to shell out to those three Blue Suns assholes every week. Nix's life was practically _filled_ by her work, and only her work, there was no time for play. To make so would mean certain death, and although Nix indulged herself in a bit of nihilism when faced with the prospect of it, she was in no hurry to rush into it with open arms.

They approached the door, but stopped suddenly a few feet away. A glance to Zaith to figure out what in the hell the holdup was showed her a turian with a look that said he had something to say, but no idea how to say it. Nix had no time for such shenanigans, and as such, after a few more seconds of just staring at her doorway, the courier snapped and said angrily, "Are you just going to stand there while my wound festers, or are we going inside?"

Her annoyance seemed to break Zaith out of his trance. He shook his head and murmured a quick apology before helping Nix over to the door, and looking away when she put in her code.

The apartment was small, containing no more than three rooms, a kitchen/living space, bedroom, and a bathroom. To Nix, this grungy place that had once smelled thickly of disease and death was now home, and it was very good to be back. The courier found herself to be quite exhausted, and led Zaith to her tiny bedroom with little to no thought of the consequences.

The room was quite spartan, containing only a bunk, a tiny metal end table, and a small box that housed a few pieces of clothing. Zaith made no comment on the humble state of her living quarters and helped her onto the bed without a word, perhaps noticing her weariness with those sharp senses turians were known to have. He then pried the pill bottle out of her hand and placed it on the end table.

Nix laid back and basked in the softness of her cheap mattress, but made no attempt to move herself under the sheets. After a few moments, the courier noticed that Zaith still hovered over her. She squinted at him in annoyance, half worried that he would try something. It didn't look like it though. He had that distant look again. "Something else?" she asked scathingly.  
The turian blinked at her for a second before resolution dawned on his face. Nix severely hoped he wouldn't ask her for a date. She would fight that future with every ounce of her relatively small being.

"Sorry, it's just… I need to tell you something."  
"What? Going to remind me to slap some medi-gel on this every once in a while?" she spat, gesturing to her bandage. When in doubt, be a sarcastic bitch.

Aggravatingly, he found that funny, and chuckled. "No, something more important than that."

Zaith took a deep breath to prepare himself for his revelation. Nix hoped he wasn't going to confess some kind of cheesy crush.

"You probably have figured it out already, but… it just doesn't feel right not to tell you. I… was in the group of mercs that…" he sighed, "Shot you. I didn't stop Daro, our squad leader, even though I should have." He turned his eyes to the ground and looked immeasurably guilty. "I'm sorry."

Well. Not the truthful confession Nix had been expecting. On the upside, it gave her the _lovely_ opportunity to do this:

The courier's eyes narrowed, her glare burned and she allowed her anger and disdain to flow over her face. Her answer to him was two, short words. "Get. Out."

Perfect. That should scare Zaith off for good.

The turian sighed again. "I figured that. There's just one more thing. You may not like it, but I'm going to come back to help you tomorrow. I know you'll think it's annoying, but you won't be able to do anything without another person's help, and you know it."

God. Damn. It. Once, just _once_, why couldn't _anything_ go her way when it came to the damn Blue Suns?

To say the she was in a bitchy mood at this point would have been the understatement of the year. "Whatever. Just leave." Even Nix would have flinched from how cold that sounded. Zaith took the hint and showed himself out. The courier listened to his receding footsteps, noting the exact moment she was sure he left her housing. Nix wasn't expecting Zaith to stay for any reason anyway. His personality, or at least what she assumed was his personality, seemed too… she hesitated to use the word 'good' but, he did seem to have an unhealthy sense of justice about him. Perhaps he fancied himself the next Archangel.

Whatever. It didn't matter. What mattered right now was getting some much needed sleep. With that in mind, Nix closed her eyes, and once more sweet oblivion enclosed onto her consciousness.

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**AN: And that's it. Thanks for reading, tell me what you thought, and I hope to see y'all again soon!**


	2. Progress

**AN: Hello people! Zero chapter 2 has finally appeared, from my brain to your computer screen. I want to thank everybody who reviewed, faved, or alerted this story on the first chapter despite its craptastic summary, and hell, even everybody who clicked on it in the first place! You guys/gals rock! I also want to thank R3aper, my beta, for reassuring me on my doubts about this chapter, it really helped. As a final little note up here, I'm dividing my time between this and another story of mine, so my apologies for the wait in-between posts.**

** Anyway, I'll let y'all get to reading.**

**Enjoy!**

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_**~Chapter 2: Progress~**_

Zaith Rangda liked humans, in comparison with the rest of his race.

Born to a barefaced mother and father, the mercenary had once been alienated from other Turians. Even on Omega, which had one of the higher barefaced populations, prejudices remained. Most other Turian children that Zaith had met had been haughty, as if having a little bit of face paint suddenly gave them the right to ridicule him. This was not to say that the young bareface had had absolutely _no _Turian friends. The other barefaces and some of the more humble colony Turians were nice enough, and even as a child, Rangda had had the charisma to win them over if they had any misgivings.

But that was a distinct minority. Zaith had much better luck making nice with aliens than with other Turians. Humans were the easiest for him, as they had never mixed with Turian culture for various reasons, and as such weren't much concerned with its unique prejudices. Oh, the bitterness from the Relay 314 Incident had been a slight obstacle, but for most of the Omega kids, that was millions of years away, as most were more concerned with survival than a war that had barely affected them. So the merc ended up with a lot more human friends than of his own kind, or any other.

Then, ironically like those law-abiding Turians who had marks, when Rangda's fifteenth birthday rolled around, he joined the Blue Suns with a large entourage of his closer buddies. Mercenary work was one of the simpler occupational choices you had on Omega, and it suited Zaith just fine. The pay had been horrible when he'd first started out, as he was a rookie and had to learn the ropes with little reimbursement, but eventually he got the hang of it and had only taken a few bad spills over the twelve years he'd been a gun-for-hire.

Recently, the mercenary had been promoted to an individual strike agent. The Blue Suns had two divisions of its ranks. It had its rookies, those less talented with weaponry or inexperienced in battle, were in a division that mostly worked with en masse strikes, overwhelming enemies with numbers. The mortality rate of that side of the business was rather high, and it was also the more well-known of the groupings. The other side was reserved for tech specialists who either worked with mechs, gunships, or any other large armament, and combat specialists who were separated into strike squads for missions that required a bit more finesse.

Right now, he was in the beginning stages of the combat aspect, the higher ups trying to decide what kind of team and people he would be best placed with for maximum task efficiency. While most in the squads only took eight or even ten years of work to get there, it had taken Zaith twelve because the Suns had at times questioned his loyalty, due to the fact that he refused to have a blue sun tattooed somewhere on his body. The Turian had no desire to be identified by any sort of bodily marking, perhaps as a matter of pride in his difference, rather than shame.

Needless to say, the last match-up had been a misfire. Daro was an uncooperative, battle-hungry, prejudiced human who grated on Zaith's nerves more than he could ever describe. The other human, Anthony, seemed to be the only one who could mellow the hotheaded leader with his logical reasoning. Unfortunately, Anthony was _all _logical reasoning, and had no respect for collateral, as long as the job got done as quickly as possible. It also didn't help that he had no sense of humor whatsoever. Besides, Anthony was a tech specialist, Daro a sniper, both of which conflicted with Zaith's skill set. The Turian specialized mostly in combat tech, had pistol and assault rifle training, and used the occasional sniper rifle, though that was a secondary ability. It wouldn't have worked out one way or another, and he supposed that the match had just been to judge the extent of his abilities in comparison to the other two.

Thinking of sniper rifles, Zaith was reminded of his newest endeavor, one 'Nix'. She was attractive by human standards, though you could only tell if you got a good look at her, which Rangda assumed people rarely did. The courier was also a sharp-tongued, sarcastic spitfire, and the mercenary was intrigued by her, to say the least. Her introverted and self-possessed, abrasive yet endearing personality pulled him in where others would be dissuaded, and made him want to learn more about her.

He arrived at the woman's apartment for the fourth time, punching in the code she had given him so that she wouldn't be forced to come to the door and risk hurting herself. The mercenary knew that it was a decision that Nix had been loathe to make, as she had had to rationalize to herself why it was necessary, and that she could always change the pin later. Out loud.

He entered through the door that was conveniently Turian-sized, into the courier's sparsely decorated kitchen and living space. She was never in here, so Zaith moved to the bedroom door and knocked. He got the grumbled reply that Nix had settled herself into giving whenever he arrived, that assured him it was alright to enter.

When the door slid open, the Turian saw Nix sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her bunk, allowing Cenobia's muzzle to rest on her lap. The animal's predatory eyes alertly shifted to the mercenary, and Zaith rubbed the back of his neck. Cenobia's scrutiny always made him a tad nervous, and he still expected the dog to leap across the room and maul him.

Rangda had first met the beast two days ago, while it was waiting outside the door to the apartment. The Turian had been prepared to shoot the dog like a common street rat (you didn't see many of the human pets around Omega, and at first he'd thought Cenobia was a mutated varren) before Nix, hearing the animal's barks, had stumbled outside and told him it wouldn't do any good. The shiny collar around Cenobia's furry neck generated a kinetic barrier that was twice as strong as the one Nix personally used. Zaith had taken that to mean that the animal was very dear to her, and backed off.

Now, the gray-furred dog glared at him icily, as if gauging his intentions with its bright yellow eyes. The dog's scarred body showed that it was no stranger to close-quarters combat, and would be only too happy to tear the mercenary's throat out if he upset its mistress. The animal's attitude was similar to its owner's – abrasive, stand-offish, easily angered and bad tempered. Cenobia only appeared docile under Nix's touch.

Nix looked like her usual self. Her skin was a shade paler than a healthy human's, but Zaith knew she still suffered slightly from her injury. She wore what Zaith's coworkers and friends called a pair of 'jeans', that were ripped and torn from use, dingy athletic shoes, and a plain shirt underneath a hooded black jacket. Nix, as usual, had the hood up, but he could still catch a glimpse of her jet-black hair, and could clearly see those slanted brown eyes that had a slight reddish tint to them. The woman's features had a smooth composition, and were topped off by a small brown mole under her right eye that was called a 'beauty mark', rather than a blemish because of its position.

"I've been waiting for you, Turian," Nix told him in her rough, no-nonsense manner. The courier's attitude toward Zaith had improved from when she had first shouted for him to leave, but not by much. She was still distrustful, and he could plainly see that she didn't like him. Her anger had abated to a simmer for the last few days, but if he stoked the flame even slightly, the mercenary was quite sure she would get violent, which was understandable, because from her point of view he was responsible for all of her recent troubles. Usually, however, Cenobia was able to put the human in… not a good mood, but definitely a better one. He did notice that she cursed less and made fewer biting remarks in his direction in the dog's presence.

Because she was in a more sociable state, Zaith tried opening up with, "I knew you needed me," and his most winning smile.

Nix was not amused, and ignored his quip. "I have to go see Harrot today, let him know that I won't be available for a little while."

Nix was not in a condition to be traipsing about Omega, but Zaith wasn't about to disagree, because once the human had a mind to do something, she did it. Period. The mercenary just hoped that he could keep her out of trouble. He was already behind enough in the good PR department from Nix's point of view.

Zaith gave his assent to the courier's request, and wasting no time, she coaxed Cenobia up from his resting place before the Turian moved over to her and gently helped her up. "Did you take your pills this morning?" he asked when she winced.

"Yeah," Nix replied, too distracted by pain to be annoyed by his doting, "Those new ones you gave me are really weak though."

Earlier, Zaith had taken a bottle of painkillers that he had retained from his most recent spill – a bad hit that had dislocated his shoulder and broken a few bones – and had brought them to the courier, assuring her that they worked on both Turians and humans alike. He thought it would earn him a few points, considering he knew for a fact that she wouldn't use the hallucinogenic pills, but all he had gained was a glare as she snatched the medicine from him.

After he had helped the courier to her feet, the human refused to lean on him, and only used him to prevent herself from falling over by clutching his shoulder. Zaith didn't comment on her decision. If it was too much for her, he could always intervene.

The two of them made their way through the apartment relatively quickly, followed closely by Cenobia. As soon as the front door slid open, the dog scampered out and disappeared into the Omegan streets, which Nix had told him was normal. The Turian and the human quickly followed suit, making their way through the shadowed alley that was adjoined to Nix's home, and out onto a street in the Gozu district.

In Zaith's opinion, Omega had its advantages, and its disadvantages. The space station was populated primarily by criminals of any ilk you could think of: smugglers, slavers, thieves, prostitutes, murderers, all of them crawled Omega's streets, preying on their weaker counterparts. However, the asteroid also allowed immense freedom to its denizens, so long as they had the firepower to back it up. After all, there was only one rule here.

As he always did in the human's company, the Turian valiantly tried to coax Nix into conversation. It usually didn't work, but one could hope. Zaith opened with, "So… you work for Harrot?"

"On occasion," Nix growled temperamentally, obviously not in the mood for idle chatter. The mercenary took the hint, and pursued his line of inquiry no further.

They walked in silence from then on, much to Zaith's chagrin, and yet to Nix's distinct pleasure. The merc was a talkative person by nature, so silence had always grated on him, unpleasant and undesirable. The courier, however, seemed to flourish in the absolute cessation of noise, as if she would have felt safer with it than in the arms of her own mother. Not for the first time, Zaith questioned why he was interested in Nix in the first place. There was _something_ there, something that pulled him in, but he was damned confused as to what that was.

Watching the courier out of the corners of his eyes, he knew that, as they progressed, Nix's face had twisted into the various iterations of a pained expression: narrowed eyes, a grimace, deep breaths, and a small sheen of sweat he could barely see beneath her hood.

When he couldn't stand watching her like that anymore, he stopped, and turned to look at her. "That's it. You're in no condition to be walking around unassisted. Lean on me, you'll be in a lot less pain."

Nix glared at him, as he knew she would. "No," she uttered, her voice searing with barely contained contempt.

Zaith smiled at her. "I'm not moving until you do, and I know you can't do this without me. Come on, what's more important? Your job, or your vendetta against my help?"

"Bastard," the human muttered. Begrudgingly, she complied, grumbling discontentedly as she wrapped her arm around his neck. Zaith followed suit by putting his arm around her waist. To support her, of course.

Now that the courier's stubbornness had been dealt with, they continued on at a much faster pace than before. It was easier to support her this time around, because this time he had come unarmored, and the clunky metal plates didn't get in the way. Zaith was so close to the human that he could smell the faint scent of human coffee coming off of her, although whether or not she had hobbled to her kitchen and brewed some, or used some kind of scented hygiene product was unknown. Either way, it was a pleasant smell.

They reached the market, and that was when the predatory glares became noticeable. With his free hand, Zaith nonchalantly tapped the Carnifex that he always kept at his side, and some of them backed off. Nix performed her own version of this, although rather than a threat, it was more of a _guarantee_. The cold twist of her face related to others that should she be fucked with, she wouldn't hesitate in any way to fight back, no matter how debilitated she might be. This fierce expression turned away more, and the Turian could safely assume no one would bother them for the moment. They walked on to their destination.

Harrot's Emporium specialized in selling salvaged parts for various devices. Mech, gunship, hell, even freighter components could be found in the Elcor's shop, though how he obtained them, no one would ever ask. Harrot had a reputation for being a swindling bastard in some cases, but he apparently got enough reliable business to stay wealthy, especially since that Quarian kid had got on the first ship off Omega he could find when he'd worked up enough cash.

The Elcor was, as always, standing behind his counter with his trademark cigar somehow perched in his mouth when they arrived. Elcor didn't have very expressive faces, but Harrot somehow managed to look mildly surprised when his eyes found Nix. "Surprised; I'd thought you for dead when you didn't show up, human. Sarcastic; I never thought you'd blow me off to shack up with a Turian."

Nix made a choking noise. "Don't insult me, merchant," she spat indignantly, obviously ignoring Zaith's hurt expression, "I came to talk to you about that job you offered."

"Dismissive; you're too late human; I already had someone else take care of that."

Nix cursed under her breath. "I can schedule some drops for next week then, if you have anything."

"Apathetic; very well then, I will check if there is anything available," Harrot replied, slowly turning around and heading to the back room.

When the Elcor had disappeared from sight, Zaith sarcastically remarked, "You two seem friendly with each other."

"He's in a good mood," Nix replied offhandedly, seeming to only half pay attention to the merc's question. If Harrot was in a good mood, Zaith wondered what he was like when he was pissed off.

Since she had graced him with a response this time, the Turian was about to ask Nix about the wisdom of going back to work in little more than a week to keep this unexpected exchange alive, but was cut short by the Elcor merchant's rather quick return.

"Disinterested; I have a delivery scheduled in one week. Will you be available this time?"

"Of course," Nix replied, sounding eager at the prospect of work.

"Affirmatively; Good, I will send you the details in the usual way. Admonishingly; Do not be late this time, courier, else our partnership end abruptly," Harrot returned before turning away from them to inspect something behind the counter. Nix nudged Zaith in indication of her wish to leave and the two of them stepped out if Harrot's Emporium and back into the Omegan streets.

"Take me home," Nix more or less commanded once they'd left.

"You don't want to go out for a romantic night on the town?" Zaith asked with a grin.

Nix glared at him. "No."

Through her ire, the Turian could see that the courier was tired. Despite their foray out of the apartment being brief, Nix looked absolutely exhausted. Her pallor had become another shade lighter, and her eyes looked heavy. Zaith conceded to take the courier home without further argument, and she seemed almost relieved. They pushed their way through the throng once more, back the way they came.

About mid-way, Nix stumbled. She didn't fall or, after a quick check, hurt herself, but Zaith took the mistake for the precursor it was. He forced the courier to put more weight on him, so he could catch her more easily if (when) she faltered again. It spoke to her weariness that she didn't argue. By the time they reached the apartment, the human was basically a dead weight. The mercenary would have been worried by this, but the sound of Nix's even, relaxed breathing belied a state of sleep rather than death.

Zaith sighed. Punching in the code, the Turian carefully picked Nix up and carried her through the threshold. If she woke up, she would be pissed, but there was no other way, and the merc couldn't say he was opposed to it.

Zaith carried the passed out Nix to her bunk and laid her down. Stealing a glance at the human's face, the Turian couldn't help making the observation that she looked far more at peace unconscious than in the waking world. The merc walked out, not wanting to linger lest she catch him and make some sort of fuss.

…

In the interim, whilst waiting for Nix to awaken, Zaith lounged around the main room of the apartment, examining its contents, as well as checking his Omni-Tool for messages from work. The mercenary was on leave until the Suns could find him some new partners, and even then they'd have to have a mission for him. He hoped it would take them a little while longer.

The ulterior motive Zaith had told Bast was true, but that wasn't the only reason he had saved Nix. She hadn't deserved to die like that, a victim of circumstance, when it could have been easily avoided. All they would have had to do to get the package was overpower her. She didn't have a gun, and never appeared to have any other kind of weapon, so it would have been easy, and no one would have gotten hurt too extremely. Still, Zaith hadn't mentioned this idea at that time, and as such, felt guilty (although, in his defense, he didn't have much opportunity. Daro and Anthony weren't much for listening to the 'new kid' as they had called him.)

The Turian shook his head, as if to clear it. Dwelling on what was done wasn't going to solve any problems. All the mercenary could do at the moment was to make sure Nix didn't die in the coming days. He smiled to himself. And perhaps hope to be something more than a caretaker.

Thus, Zaith returned his attention to the surroundings. He sat on a couch at one end of the almost barren, rectangular room, that was tattered, torn, and not at all in good shape. Nix had spared more than a few expenses when choosing the furnishing.

The rest of the room was empty, save for a pseudo kitchen that had a small table with an uncomfortable looking metal chair attached to it, a small refrigeration device, and a rusty sink implanted into a counter space that jutted from the wall.

The Turian idly wondered what on Omega Nix did in her spare time, considering the sparseness of her living space and the complete lack of entertainment. She didn't seem the type to watch vids on the extranet or sit around like a louse all day if she could help it. Maybe she did something for Cenobia...

Zaith passed the time, periodically checking on Nix every so often to make sure she hadn't _actually_ died rather than having just passed out. It was a surprise when, two hours after their arrival, the Turian walked into the bedroom to find his human charge very much awake.

Nix had sat up, propping herself against the wall adjacent to the headboard. Her hood had fallen down, fully exposing her black hair – which had been tied back into a 'pony tail' – and tired eyes. "You're still here?" she questioned sleepily, looking only mildly disappointed rather than angry, although that could easily change.

"You fainted on the way here," Zaith explained patiently, walking into the room and finding a comfortable position leaning on the wall in front of the courier's bunk. With a hint of humor in his tone, he continued, "I thought I'd stay to make sure you hadn't died on me. After all, I wouldn't want all of my hard work to go to waste."

She snorted and seemed almost... amused? Zaith dismissed that conclusion though, it just wasn't possible. "Cenobia back yet?" Nix asked with a yawn as she wearily rubbed her eyes.

"Nope, haven't seen hide nor hair of him." Thankfully, the merc added in his head. The dog was not the most hospitable company.

Nix yawned again, as if she weren't really concerned. The courier seemed uncannily complacent right now, which made little sense to Zaith. He had seen her soon after she'd woken up before, and if anything it seemed to put her into an even fouler mood than usual.

The Turian must have been looking at Nix oddly, because she suddenly cocked her head and roughly asked, "You got a problem?"

Zaith smiled. "No, of course not. I was just thinking about how pleasant you're being. Usually you've given me a verbal lashing or ended the conversation by now."

Perhaps he shouldn't have pointed that out, for Nix raised an eyebrow. "I can still do that, Turian," she reminded him roughly.

"But you haven't yet. Why?" the mercenary asked unaffectedly, seeking an explanation, but not expecting to receive one.

Nix sighed frustratedly, brought a hand to her head, and ran her fingers through her hair. When she finished her ministrations, the human pulled her appendage away and looked at Zaith squarely. "I'll be blunt," she began, sounding almost bored. "I don't like you; you piss me off. More importantly, I don't trust you, and I can't forgive you for getting me into this mess." She looked away and sighed again before continuing, "But I'm tired of being pissed off all the time, and tired of seeing red whenever I see that damn face of yours. So I'll make you a deal. Try not to annoy me, and maybe I'll try not to make this any harder than it already is." Nix turned again and glared at him. "Don't get a big head though, merc. I want your ass gone the second I can fend for myself, and not a moment later. Unfortunately, you won't leave until then, so I'll have to tolerate you. Sound fair?"

Zaith nodded in affirmation without having to think about it. He shouldn't have been getting excited; after all, all she was saying was that she would be more cooperative. It wouldn't change much, and she would still insist on his quick exit once she was better. But… this was more progress than Zaith had made with the human for three days, so he was happy, in a way.

"Good," the courier said, as if she was praising a particularly obedient pet. "So, Turian, tell me about my injuries. How do I have to deal with you?"

It was at this point that Zaith realized that Nix had next to no information on her wounds. To be frank, that was mostly her fault for being so disagreeable until now, but he could have brought up the issue instead of leaving her to worry silently in the dark.

"Well… Bast didn't tell me exactly everything about you. What I do know is that you had some severe abdominal trauma, and that Bast had to go in and fix up your organs. He also had to give you a blood transfusion, a small one, to prevent you from bleeding out."

"He keeps blood at his _house_?" Nix remarked with incredulity, her angry mask removed for the merest millisecond. It was put back on soon enough though, as the courier continued on to ask, "How'd he know my blood type anyway?"

"He did a thorough biometric scan on a sample. There was certainly enough to choose from. Anyway," the Turian continued, ignoring the first question because he had no answer for it, "After he performed surgery, he told me that you would need to be bedridden for a few days, and when I explained what little I knew of your… temperament, he decided that it would be best if we kept you under and fed intravenously for that time. That's all I know, but my unprofessional guess would be at least three more days, tops."

"Great," Nix replied under her breath, tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, come on. I'm not that bad, surely," Zaith rebutted with a teasing smile on his face.

The human gave that kind-of-amused snort again, but didn't respond. That was bad. If the Turian couldn't keep her talking, Nix might banish him from the room altogether, thus ruining his chances for the rest of the day.

Hastily, he asked, "Have you eaten anything today?" to keep the exchange alive.

Nix looked defensive and suspicious, crossing her arms and leaning ever so slightly away from the mercenary. "Why should you care?"

"Nix..." he trailed off in an admonishing manner, "Don't you remember our agreement? You don't make my life difficult, so long as I don't make yours. Now, did you, or did you not have anything to eat today?"

The courier made a small sound of frustration before relenting. "No. It's not like I had much opportunity."

Zaith grinned again at that. "Want me to make something?"

Nix pulled a face that told the Turian that she _definitely_ didn't want him to do anything of the sort. "Just go grab me a hunk of bread or something, dried meat if you can find any."

Zaith conceded, and left to gather what she'd asked for. When he returned with the items in question and handed them to Nix, he offhandedly remarked, "I don't know how you can eat this crap every day and still be healthy." Omega wasn't know for it's food, but it was capable of _much _better than what Zaith had retrieved. Anyone willing to eat this was on a serious budget.

"I'm used to it," Nix replied simply, dodging the question and yet, perhaps answering it at the same time. The courier then proceeded to chow down, savagely tearing into the tasteless looking meat and stale bread like she hadn't eaten all week. Which, technically, she hadn't, at least not a lot. Having a hole blown through her stomach probably didn't do much good for her appetite.

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me eat?" Nix asked suddenly, her voracious consumption halted, at least for the moment. "Don't you have shit to do? Any people to shoot, packages to steal?"

Ouch. Still, Zaith persevered. "Not for a little while yet. Come to think of it though..." the Turian made a show of checking his Omni-Tool, "... I do have an errand to run. I think I'm going to go get you some real food, to celebrate our 'agreement'."

Nix looked at him, and the mercenary could swear that her face twitched. She returned her gaze to the wall straight ahead of her, and said, "Do what you want. I can't guarantee that I'll eat anything you get."

"Will you be okay here, by yourself?" Zaith asked purposefully, knowing exactly what he would receive for his doting.

Face. Twitch. Gaze back to wall. The Turian took the hint with a satisfied smile and left, dropping a hasty farewell in his wake.

…

Zaith couldn't say he was an expert on human food, having not eaten a lot of it in his time, but he did know a bit more than most Turians, and even a tad more than some humans he'd met. The food he'd bought wasn't exactly a grandiose meal. It was better in quality than anything Nix currently stocked, he'd made sure of that, but, she probably wouldn't care one way or another about the lackluster morsels the mercenary had grabbed, as from her point of view there wasn't anything to celebrate. As such, the Turian didn't see the need to go overboard. Still, if he could make any sort of progress with Nix in any sort of way, it would certainly help his cause.

Zaith stopped for a second, realizing that he would be in for the long-haul if he managed to get somewhere with Nix in the next few days. He didn't know how he felt about that. Unlike Bast, Zaith had no problems making long term commitments to other people or organizations. For the former, everything had to be in flux, he had to have some sort of contingency if things went wrong. Zaith, however, was optimistic, and confident that whilst things might not always go his way, he could persevere, so he had much fewer qualms about attaching himself to others.

But with Nix, there wasn't a mutual feeling between them. He was attracted to her, and wanted to learn more about her. She _severely_ disliked him, and wanted him gone. Once again, Zaith had to question his wisdom when he had decided to pursue the courier. Still, there was something... some hidden charm that piqued his interest.

The Turian shook his head and exited his musings, resuming his walk. He would deal with his decision making skills when they started to lead him astray. Until then, he didn't need to worry about how long things would take. After all, he had never been one to give up once he got started on something.

...

The mercenary was surprised to arrive to an open door. At first he was puzzled, and peered inside, wondering if the courier had some means by which the door could be opened remotely. He expected to see Cenobia inside if that was the case, for who else would she open it for?

No Cenobia. Besides, his line of inquiry was wrong. She wouldn't have given him the entry code if she could open the door with her Omni-Tool. Something was wrong.

Zaith checked the door panel housing the keypad and the electronic lock. It was fried, as if someone had haphazardly hacked through it, only seeking admittance rather than wishing to preserve stealth.

Zaith had no idea who would want to break into Nix's apartment. She never mentioned any enemies, but then again, their first real, not one-sided conversation had been earlier today. He cursed her stubbornness, no matter how justified she might have been.

He drew his Carnifex, and made some modifications with his Omni-Tool to set it to shoot disruptor rounds. Without armor and shields of his own, he didn't have time to deal with anyone else's. Then, the merc left his purchases at the door, and slowly advanced into the apartment, senses alert for the slightest abnormality. No one was in sight, and there was only one place to go from the front of the house, so the mercenary approached the closed bedroom door with caution. This portal did not have a lock, and Zaith heard voices through the thick steel of it, voices that sounded as if they were in the middle of an argument. None of them were even remotely similar to Nix's.

With a sense of urgency, the merc quickly scanned the chamber beyond with his Omni-Tool for life. He obtained four signatures, and one was very weak. Without further delay, he hit the door panel and smashed into the small room, hoping to take advantage of the distraction created by their apparent feuding.

There were three of them, too many to take out by himself without getting gunned down. The merc instead darted behind the closest of the intruders – a human – and snaked an arm tightly around his throat, pushing the body in front of him as a shield, while simultaneously aiming his pistol at his captive's head.

The other two intruders – a Batarian, and another, younger looking Turian with faded colony marks – were surprised by his sudden entrance, but quickly regained their composure enough to aim their guns at him. Zaith then noticed that all of these invaders wore Blue Suns armor, which triggered anger and confusion in him. What the _hell_ were they doing here?

In any case, this made things more complicated. Instead of just blowing these intruder's brains out, he would now have to extract information from them. Offing your comrades without good reason was an offense in the Blue Suns' book, after all. Glancing to Nix over his captive's shoulder, seeing her form curled up in a bright red pool, her breathing shallow, Zaith estimated that he didn't have a lot of time for talk.

The human took the opportunity to struggle in his firm hold while his attention was apparently elsewhere. Zaith smashed the side of his gun into the other mercenary's head, effectively halting his thrashing. He might as well get on with the questioning then.

Turning his attention to the other two, who still aimed their weapons at him, the barefaced Turian smiled wickedly. "It would be a real shame if your friend here happened to die because you kept pointing those things at me," he taunted, jamming the barrel of his Carnifex back into the side of the human's skull. "Why don't you two put the guns down, and we can have a nice, rational conversation here, hmm?"

The two mercs glanced at each other in deliberation, then to the human, then to themselves once more. Zaith choked the human a little more, enough to make him squeal a little for air, to help them along in their decision making.

The other two nodded to each other in silent agreement after a few seconds of nonverbal communication. The Batarian turned his double gaze to him with distaste. "Fine," he uttered in a bitter, gravelly voice. The four-eyed alien slowly lowered his weapon to point toward the floor. The Turian cautiously followed suit.

"Good," Zaith said, in much the same manner Nix had, not two hours ago. "So, I guess I'll start with _why the fuck you're here_?"

The sudden harshness in the barefaced Turian's tone made his counterpart flinch a little. "Why should we answer?" he replied in an equally scathing inflection.

"Are you blind kiddo?" Zaith asked, deadpan incredulous. "If you don't want to talk, I can always just..." he exaggeratedly tapped the trigger of his Carnifex. The human jerked a little in reaction to the sound he made.

"Racketeering. For the Suns," the Batarian answered quickly.

"Ah," Zaith mocked, "The voice of reason. Now, why is she almost dead?"

"She didn't pay her dues," the Turian returned begrudgingly.

"But of course. …oh, wait a minute, I thought the Suns didn't have anything scheduled for another few weeks. What's up with the early collection?"

"She didn't pay last week either, we came to collect her late pay, and her interest." The Batarian's reply was hesitant and confused. He didn't know where the other Turian was leading him.

Zaith smiled malevolently again. "Are you sure about that? The Suns have a zero tolerance policy for late payments, after all. If she was late, she would have died long ago. I think you're lying to me."

"How the hell do you know so much about the Suns?" the Turian deflected with frustration and anger leaking into his voice.

Zaith ignored him. "In fact, I think you three," he punctuated three by giving the human another squeeze, "Aren't doing this for the Suns at all. You're doing it for _yourselves_." There had been reports in this area for the past couple months now, about racketeers that had come seeking 'weekly' payments in addition to the normal monthly ones, even though the Blue Suns had never set up such a roster. Coincidentally, the racketeers always seemed to be the same team of three, a Batarian, human, and Turian.

As soon as he finished his accusation, the Batarian brought up his gun again, most likely figuring that there was no way to talk his way out of this and preserve his own life at the same time. In doing so, he also confirmed Zaith's suspicions and gave him adequate reason to kill, so the Turian quickly angled his Carnifex and shot three rounds with three earsplitting bangs; one into the human's skull, the other two into the Batarian.

The disruptor ammo did its job, puncturing the latter's shields and making its way into his armor. He crumpled over, but Zaith wasn't completely sure he was dead, so he spent one more round, creating a new hole in the alien's facial features.

The other Turian for his part, also raised his weapon, but hesitated to fire. Zaith took advantage of his disinclination, and used the last two rounds in his clip to blast the kid's leg out from under him. Then he took the opportunity to take the other Turian's weapon, and smack him on the head hard enough to knock him out.

"I suppose I'm being sentimental," Zaith muttered to himself, "But, I will need him to testify so I don't get the axe." In any case, that took more time than he would have liked, and thus he turned his attention to Nix's prone form, seeking any means by which he could help her.

Zaith ran a few scans with his Omni-Tool, searching for wounds and internal injuries, but having no idea how he would handle them other than slapping some medi-gel on the more serious ones and hoping for the best. The results he obtained were not good.

In addition to the reopening of her stomach wound, Nix had suffered some head injuries that might have caused her current unconscious state, additional abdominal trauma of a lesser degree than that she had before, various bruises, scratches, and a broken arm. All in all, she wasn't doing so hot.

Nix needed real medical attention, but Zaith had fewer options on that front than he would have liked. Bast wasn't available in this case, his place was too far away, and he was on call at HQ anyway, he couldn't just leave. There was a clinic close by, but they didn't have a very good relationship with the Suns, there was an... incident including some mechs and some mercs, that did not end well for the latter. The Suns were able to oust the clinic from existence now that they had recovered from the plague, but in the end it was decided that it would be a waste of resources, and in hindsight, the medical center _did_ prevent the deaths of quite a few citizens whom the merc group 'collected' from.

In the end, Zaith decided that taking his charge to the clinic was his only recourse if he didn't want her to bite it. That in mind, before carting her off to the other side of the district, he should probably treat the weeping hole in Nix's stomach first.

The Turian propped her up on the side of her bunk so that he could obtain better access to her abdomen. Then, he carefully pulled up the bottoms of Nix's jacket and shirt (though only far enough for treatment, the mercenary wasn't _that_ stupid), removed the bandages that she had wrapped around her mid-section, and exposed the ragged, newly torn flesh beneath. Zaith grimaced at the sight of the wound, but applied a packet of medi-gel that he had gathered from his personal stores nonetheless.

Then, as gently as was possible, he replaced the bandages – as he lacked the time to grab new ones – and lifted Nix's slight form into his arms, holding her balanced in front of him so as not to risk the further injury of his charge.

Zaith turned to leave, but glanced at the corpses and unconscious Turian he would be leaving in his wake. Right. That was going to be a bureaucratic nightmare to explain to the higher ups, though he supposed that the Turian's testimony would be enough to relieve him from responsibility, assuming the kid would tell the truth. Still, the evidence was stacked against the younger Turian, so that was unlikely. No, the _real _pain in the ass would be the report Zaith would have to turn in after he'd taken care of Nix.

In any case, Zaith walked out of the apartment and messed with the fried door controls, with them apparently just functional enough for him to lock it behind him and disallow exit from the inside, to prevent his unconscious counterpart from escaping. That little loose end tied up, the Turian then started the walk to the clinic.

Zaith received a few stares on his way, but they weren't threatening, just inquisitive. It probably wasn't every day that one saw a bloodstained Turian carrying an unconscious human through the streets in a situation that didn't look like it was going to end _very_ badly for the latter party.

And, of course, midway through the trip, in a situation that would most likely cause her great pain, Nix stirred and awoke in his arms, though he was too intent on getting to his destination as quickly as possible to notice at first. In fact, the Turian didn't notice her renewed state of awareness until he heard a soft, bitter whisper. "Damn... they sure picked a good eternal punishment."

Zaith was slightly startled, but did not slow his pace. "Good morning to you too," he replied casually, as if everything was completely fine.

"Fuck you," Nix returned, though it didn't seem that she'd put a lot of effort into her expletive. "Where are we going, asshole?" she asked in the same low whisper as before.

Despite the fact that he had been demoted from 'Turian' or 'merc' to asshole, Zaith said, "To the clinic on the other side of the district," in a reasonably even tone.

"Why?"

"Umm... because you're probably going to die if we don't?" Zaith replied confusedly.

Nix made a small, dismissive noise that sounded like a 'tch'. "Like it matters..." she breathed quietly, more to herself than to Zaith. Then, continuing in an only slightly louder voice she said, "I'm not some damn damsel in distress that you have to save all the time merc." The statement had the sound of unadulterated anger, as if Nix knew exactly who to blame for her current state, and it happened to be the person carrying her.

Still, Zaith wrote it off as confusion and disorientation from being smacked on the head hard enough to pass out for spirits know how many minutes. "I disagree with you on the distress part, but you? A _damsel_? That _is_ ridiculous," he returned teasingly, hoping to get a rise out of her to distract her from her apparently dark thoughts.

Whatever she would have rebutted, Zaith would have to find out later, for the courier chose that exact moment to conk out and fall back into the world of unconsciousness. That was a good thing though, it was probably difficult for her to be awake while being jostled around like a rag doll when her wound had been recently reopened.

Zaith continued on to the clinic with no further interruptions from Nix or anyone else. He made it to the small medical center in a few more minutes, and, seeing the collapsed woman in his arms, the human nurse at the front desk quickly admitted him with few questions. Now all the Turian could do was wait as they carted the courier off to a surgical room. Zaith wasn't worried though; the plague cure had come from within this very clinic. If a large scale disease like that could be cured here, then intensive care for a battered human should be no problem.

In the meantime, the Turian did have that report to type up...

* * *

**AN: That's all for now, but don't worry, the next chapter will elaborate on what happened there at the end. 'Till then, thanks for reading!**


	3. Ire

**AN: Hiya! So it's been like half a year since I've updated this, but now I'm back on track so hopefully you won't ever have to wait that long again. My apologies for the inconvenience. That said, I'd like to thank everyone who followed/faved the story, and of course those who reviewed as well!**

**I also again would like to thank R3aper for his help with the chapter, the feedback was much appreciated.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**~Chapter 3: Ire~**_

Nix let out a sigh of relief when she heard the front door close. Finally alone again, she wolfed down the remnants of the food that Turian had brought her. Then she laid back in her bunk, lethargic again all of a sudden.

The last few days had been a fresh, steaming pile of shit. Nix had been injured before, but never to the extent that she wasn't able to move without making it worse. It was extremely frustrating and constantly put her in a bad mood. Needless to say, she was one pissed bitch at this point, and the fact that she had to rely on such an irritating person to even function only made it worse.

Though Nix had to admit, not everything had been as bad as it could have. Despite the obvious drawbacks, she'd gotten a much needed break out of the deal. The courier had been going full blast for a couple of months now, trying to make ends meet _and _avoid getting her face blasted off at the same time. Truth be told, the strain had been getting to her; lounging around for a few days may have irked her, but proved beneficial in the long run.

In addition, Cenobia seemed to be hanging around longer and more often as well. Usually, the dog would come around once every couple of days to get some food and sit with her for a while, but since her second day back at the apartment since having her abdomen ripped open, he'd stayed with her far longer. It was a good thing too, as Cenobia did wonders for her temper. Whenever Nix thought she was going to snap, he would nudge her leg or otherwise remind her that losing it wouldn't make anything better.

The cause of Nix's ire was unfortunately not usually due to her temporary invalidity, her anxiety, or even just her general crankiness. No, more often than not, it had something to do with that damned Turian. Zaith Rangda, currently the second highest person on Nix's shit list, had to be one of the most annoying mercenaries that she'd had the displeasure of meeting. At least the jackass who shot her (defending champion for the number one spot on the aforementioned list) had the decency to leave her alone after the fact.

Still, he was a necessary evil in the end. Nix knew no one else who would be able (and willing) to drop a week's worth of commitments just to help her out. As such, she wouldn't have been able to even move around without him, let alone preserve her partnership with Harrot. That prick Elcor was very select about the way he wanted his employees to behave, and if you fucked up you better have a good reason for it. Though she didn't work exclusively for him, Harrot provided Nix with more than a few jobs each month, so staying on his good side was imperative. And that meant trekking all the way to his shop to show him why she hadn't been available.

Still, Nix had another errand in mind to accomplish while she was out; getting a new gun. Her old one had crapped out on her for the last time shortly before she'd moved, and she was never able to get even close to enough money to replace it since. However, due to recent circumstances, Nix was finally willing to go into debt to rectify that. Self-defense was important on Omega, but that wasn't the only end she was going to use it for. Hopefully in a few weeks, when she was strong enough, she would be able to use it to completely 'solve' her monetary troubles. The Blue Suns had pissed her off for the last time, and damn if Nix wasn't going to make sure they knew it. Unfortunately, when she'd begun to shake and her vision started swimming in front of her at the Emporium, she'd made the executive decision to save that purchase for tomorrow.

Nix's Omni-Tool made a strangled beeping sound and began to glow at her side, pulling her out of her thoughts. Sitting up again and propping herself against the bunk's headboard, the courier pulled up her inbox on the display and saw that she had two messages waiting.

The first was from Harrot; he'd sent her the details of the drop he wanted her to perform next week. She scanned through the message and found it was a fairly simple one to some customers she was familiar with. She would have said that he was going easy on her because he cared... if she didn't know that he probably just wanted to make sure she didn't fuck up again. In either case, it wouldn't be too stressful to take care of and Nix was thankful for that. She moved to the next message:

_Yo Nix,_

_What the hell happened!? I haven't heard from you in almost a week you lazy bitch! Hurry up and get back to me; I thought we had a job a few days ago and I don't want to miss out on creds just cause you feel like going dark all of a sudden._

_-Tabby_

Oh crap. Nix had forgotten all about Tabitha. Oops.

Tabitha was, for lack of a better term, an Omegan cabbie. She made most of her money ferrying people around the station, and on occasion she catered to some high profile personnel. However, there were differences from what a cab service might have been on other planets. First of all, Tabitha only did business through referrals; she wasn't about to let some random crazy or someone about to get dropped by a merc group into her car. There were also countless precautions against car jacking, though Nix had never been told what exactly those were. The cabbie had hinted once that there were some pretty nasty traps hidden beneath the leather seats, and Nix took her word for it.

Tabitha was also Nix's one and only business associate. In exchange for a twenty-five percent cut of the creds from a job, she carted the courier to parts of the station that were impractical to walk to, or places that were otherwise inaccessible by foot. They were friends of a sort, but they weren't too close, and on occasion Nix would fail to keep Tabitha in the loop about goings on; personal or otherwise.

Nix sent a reply explaining what had happened and added the information on Harrot's drop as well, since it would require her to go a fair ways from the Emporium. That done, feeling irritated by her continued perch on the bunk and looking for a change of scenery, the courier closed her Omni-Tool and struggled to her feet. Nix leaned against the wall to keep her balance as she walked (stumbled) out of her room and into the other. As she staggered through the empty space between the doorway and the couch, she began cursing aloud. "Damn wound; damn sniper;" she growled, "Damn Turian; damn Blue Suns!"

Padding forward a few more steps, Nix was finally able to sit on the sofa. She leaned back into the old, raggedy piece of crap that was her only real chair and caught her breath. This was pathetic; even with a couple hours rest after her visit to Harrot, she could only move a few yards before she began wheezing for air.

Nix gave up on sitting and collapsed on her side. As she laid down, staring at the wall, she wondered why in the hell she'd even bothered moving if all she was going to do was collapse in a different location, but it was already done so she might as well just go with it.

She hoped Cenobia would come back soon. Nix was getting bored just lying around and thinking about all of her recent troubles; having him around might lighten her thoughts. If she was completely honest with herself, that dog might have been the only thing in the entire galaxy that she actually cared about. She'd even gotten him that powerful kinetic barrier and integrated it into a collar so she wouldn't have to worry about him getting shot.

Nix wasn't entirely sure where he had come from. Presumably some humans had brought him to Omega for some reason and he must have gotten loose. He was actually fairly young when she'd found him five or six years ago, and all he'd seemed to do in that time was get bigger and acquire more scars. Based on her observations of his strength, Nix also had suspicions that he'd received some in-utero gene therapy, but she couldn't prove it. Aside from all that though, he was a good dog and a faithful companion, which was all she really wanted from him.

The courier sighed and adjusted herself so she could look at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting off as she wondered what she was going to do for the next few days besides lounge around and try to restrain herself from throttling Zaith. That idea quite pleased her, and she relaxed slightly before once again drifting off to sleep.

…

A bang on the door suddenly woke her. Groggily pushing herself into sitting position, the courier grimaced at the rude awakening. That stupid Turian would have hell to pay for... wait. Nix shook her head to clear the tiredness that weighed on her wits. Zaith may have been an annoying bastard, but he wasn't so stupid as to forget the code to the door. So who else would be calling? Tabitha, worried about her associate's health? Unlikely; the cabbie wasn't particularly susceptible to worry, and Nix had made it quite clear she would be fine.

"Open up! We're here to collect your weekly payment!" someone shouted from behind the metal wall.

"What the hell...?" Nix muttered to herself. Why the crap were they here? Goddammit, she didn't have any money; she'd been unconscious for half a week and invalid for the rest! And with that idiot merc gone she had no other recourse except reason, which usually didn't work on Omega. "You're a day early," she yelled at the door, "Come back later!"

"If you don't wanna pay up, we're going to have to force you to!"

She kind of expected that. "Fuck off!" she screamed in response. They didn't answer, and so she had to presume they were already working on finding a way in.

Nix stood and braced herself against the couch. "Dammit," she whispered severely, "This is _not _the time to be immobile!" She stumbled slowly toward her bedroom, her mind racing to formulate a plan.

Nix needed a weapon. Her Omni-Tool wasn't an option; it was such a bare bones model that it didn't even have a mini-fabricator to make an Omni-Blade. She could rummage through the kitchen for a knife to defend herself with, but there was no sense in that. By the time she would have done so, they'd probably be inside, ready to gun her down.

That left Nix with one other option. The courier shuffled to the bedroom door in a less than timely manner, mapping out her moves in her head, and hoping she had enough time to execute them.

Suddenly she heard a high pitched whine come from somewhere behind her. They were hacking through the door pad, and rather haphazardly by the sound of it. If she lived through this, it would cost Nix a fortune to have that damn thing replaced.

Quickly stumbling through the threshold, Nix wasted no time in angling herself toward the bathroom. Hopefully she would be able to find some sort weapon in there, or perhaps make one if she couldn't find anything off hand.

Nix's restroom wasn't anything special; just a shower unit, sink and toilet, all kept serviceably clean by herself. The room hadn't come in very great condition when she'd gotten it though, and she still found rusty bits of things here and there. Ironically, that was what she was hoping for now.

The courier glanced around, looking for something, anything, she could use. Preferably it would be long and sharp, but a heavy blunt object would do just as well. Nothing caught her eye, except...

Nix's towel rack had always been wobbly. Sometimes it would even fall off of its supports when she pulled a towel at a bad angle. Made of low quality steel, it was the most viable bludgeoning tool available at the moment. She swiftly moved over to it and pulled the hollow pipe off of the wall.

Nix heard the swish of a door opening from the front of the apartment and knew her time was almost up. With as much haste as she could muster, she limped through her room to position herself beside the door. If the courier could catch one of them by surprise coming through it, she might be able to snatch his gun and deal with the rest of them.

'Might' was unfortunately a key variable in her plan. There was no time to think of anything better though. She could already hear their booted feet tromping across her floor to the bedroom. Nix readied her meager weapon and waited.

Silence for a few moments. Nix was sweating from sudden exertion, the pain in her stomach flaring higher than it ever had since she'd returned to the comfort of her own home. The cruel, salty liquid pooled in the usual places, annoying the living shit out of her when she should be focusing on saving her ass.

The door swished open, and an un-helmeted human in Blue Suns armor walked confidently into the room.

Nix wasted no time in striking. She moved in and swung her pipe, slamming it on his head and making the metal ring on contact.

Much to Nix's dismay, her own strength was far from regained. Though she could tell the blow had certainly surprised the merc, it was so weak it hadn't stunned him at all, save for the curse that fell from his lips when it connected with his skull.

It didn't matter, she still had to try. Nix attempted to wrest the gun from the merc's hands.

Predictably, she lost the struggle and was booted to the ground, crashing on the metallic floor with a muted yelp of pain. Quick, heavy footsteps penetrated her ears as the other two mercs rushed into the room.

"What happened?" questioned one. The voice was gravelly enough for Nix to guess it was a Batarian who had spoken.

The human merc's voice boiled with rage. "The bitch smacked me with something!"

Nix heard more movement before suddenly choking on the pain of being kicked in the stomach. She felt her wound tear open and begin to gush her essence onto the bandage wrapped around her abdomen.

So this was it then. Nix had avoided death for the final time, and now everything was going to end. How irritating; her final days had been wasted in the company of an annoying son of a bitch like that damn Turian. At least she'd get her wish and finally be able to see what was on the other side.

Another voice laughed cruelly. "I can't believe she thought she could stop us. This human must be an idiot." The flange in his voice translated to Nix that he was a Turian. "So how are we going to punish her?"

"A broken arm might suffice for the insult," the Batarian deadpanned.

"Heh-heh, you got it," the human chuckled. Someone placed a foot on her arm and grasped it below the elbow. Nix braced herself for the inevitable stab of pain.

She still screamed. Tears welled up behind her closed eyes, but she refused to give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing them as well as hearing her cries. She turned her head to the side away from them and left it there, letting the moisture running down her cheeks go unnoticed.

"Think she's paid enough yet?" the Turian asked.

"No, I don't think I'm quite done," was the reply that came just before something heavy smashed into the back of Nix's head.

"Whoa... bleeding..." a voice said, seeming to come from far away.

"Shit... too far!"

"...fine... just take..."

"Suns... suspicious..." Those were the last two words Nix heard before losing consciousness.

…

Nix's head hurt like a bitch. At least, that was the first thing she registered upon regaining her senses. The rest of her wasn't doing so hot either. Her arm had been reset and put in a cast, but in the end it was still broken. Her stomach no longer gushed blood, but it wasn't like it was healed, it was merely as if the tide had been stemmed temporarily. The courier was pretty sure that if she exerted herself much more than to reposition her perch on the bed she now laid upon, something would tear and her guts would spill out.

It hadn't taken her long to put two and two together to figure out she was in some sort of medical facility, the fact that she was even still alive being the predominant factor in that conclusion. In any case, it was definitely a step above that merc doctor's closet. The room was big enough for more than three people for one, but there were other amenities as well, such as the actual bed, a sink, cabinets, an IV pole (which Nix was hooked up to), and what looked to be a disposal unit for hypodermic needles. The walls and floor were made of the typical drab Omegan steel, and there wasn't much to look at, but she couldn't complain.

It looked as though Nix had once again managed to cheat death. She must have had the devil's luck; not many people on Omega get a second chance, let alone a third. Of course, such a thing wasn't critically important; so long as she managed to come out okay she could focus on other matters, which included the alleviation of her now extremely dry throat.

Nix was trying to devise some sort of plan to get over to the sink and get a drink when the door swished open and a haggard-looking human walked in. He was wearing scrubs and had his face in a datapad, so she assumed he was doctor or something. He didn't seem to notice her, though he still walked toward the bed. He took a distracted glance at Nix to find her staring at him, but returned to reading his holographic text before giving her a double take.

"Oh, you're awake," he said, looking mildly surprised. "We didn't think you'd come around for another couple days yet."

Nix gave the doctor a confused look. What the hell was he talking about? She remembered passing out after getting her head stomped in, but she couldn't have been out that long.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," he apologized hastily. "You must be confused. My name is Dr. Daniel Abrams; you've been a patient in my clinic for the past two days. Along with your other injuries, you had a mild concussion, and you haven't been conscious since you arrived."

What the hell? Nix clasped a hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. She'd been out for two days?_ Again_? Maybe she was wrong about that devil's luck thing.

Abrams though… she remembered that name. He was the current head doctor at that non-profit clinic in the Gozu district. She'd delivered a couple of drops there in the past which had consisted of hard to obtain drugs and medicines, along with other, far stranger materials. Nix presumed this was that very clinic, but she wondered how she'd gotten here in the first place. Her memory was a little hazy from after passing out in her apartment. There was a vague recollection of movement and being carried, but it was insubstantial and she couldn't really make anything out.

Nix shook her head. No sense in worrying about it now. The point was that she was alive; figuring out what happened was of little concern. In the meantime, she could finally set about getting that glass of water.

Nix jerked her head toward the sink. "Could I get something to drink?" she croaked. She hated asking other people for help, but it wasn't as if there was any alternative at the moment.

Abrams nodded. He quickly paced over to the sink and returned a few moments later, handing Nix a small paper cup, which she took without thanks. As the cold liquid rejuvenated her parched throat, the doctor pulled up a stool that was previously resting against the wall and sat beside the bed, pulling up a file on his datapad.

"Aside from doing all we could for your concussion," Abrams began, "We also reset your arm and fixed up your abdomen as best we could. The arm should be fine in a couple weeks, just remember to stay off of it. As for your stomach, the rupture was pretty bad. We performed surgery to correct all of the abnormalities and also sealed the wound up with artificial skin, but you'll still want to apply medi-gel regularly in order to completely close it. We were surprised to find evidence of semi-healed tissue inside of it though." He glanced up from the pad to give her a serious look. "I'm not so naïve to think you'll tell me how it happened initially, but regardless, try to be more careful in the future."

Nix snorted. It wasn't as if she'd had any control over it. Still, no sense in letting the doctor know about that. "So when do I get to leave?" she followed up testily, no longer even acknowledging Abrams' scolding.

"Well, that depends," the doctor said with a sigh, "I'd _like _to keep you here for another day or so to run some tests to make sure you're completely recovered and there are no lasting effects from your coma, as well as to let your stomach heal a little while longer. But, I can't force you to stay if you don't want to. It's your choice."

Nix though about it for a moment. Though she'd like to leave and go home as soon as possible, she didn't have any real means to do so. It was difficult to move after all, and anything that could help her with that was either too expensive for her to afford or unsuited to her situation in the first place. Not to mention the fact that she didn't even know if she would have a house to return to. Though she had survived, there was no guarantee that the Suns or someone else hadn't appropriated her apartment in her absence. There wasn't a lock on the door anymore after all. But that was also a reason why she needed to get back as well.

The courier weighed her options, and eventually decided that it would be best to stay put for now. She couldn't very well do anything in this state, so she might as well take advantage of some more free medical care. Nix nodded her assent to Abrams. "I'll stay until you've finished testing then."

The doctor looked genuinely pleased. "I'll go start making preparations then," he said standing up. As the door swished closed behind him, she heard him give a muffled sound of surprise and then begin talking to someone. Then there was silence.

The door swished open again, and the one person in the entire world that Nix had hoped she would never have to deal with again came strolling in. "Nix!" Zaith said with a smile, "I'm glad to see you've come to." The door closed behind him as he walked over to her bed and sat down on Abrams' stool. "How are you?"

Just seeing Zaith's face jogged Nix's memory. A brief flash of him carrying her through the streets pooped into her mind, and her conception of being in hell came back as well. Along with those, a lingering suspicion was revealed to her, and roared to the forefront of her thoughts.

Anger pricked at Nix's mind as she became more and more convinced that her assumption was correct. She looked down at her sheets and balled them in her fists. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Zaith already seemed to sense something was amiss. He had probably noted that her voice was filled with rage rather than her usual annoyance. "What are you talking about?" he put forward hesitantly, "I've been checking to see if you were all right every day since I brought you here."

"Oh, really?" Nix snorted with derision, "So I guess you're the one who 'saved' me again. Right?"

"Yeah... Nix, I don't understa-" Zaith cut himself off. "Wait... you don't think that I-"

"Shut the hell up," Nix interrupted flatly. "Your excuses don't mean a damn." She laughed bitterly to herself and clenched the cloth in her hands even harder. "To think I actually gave you a chance, you shit-faced merc."

"Nix it isn't-"

"I told you to shut up!" Nix shouted, finally letting her anger free. "How dare you just sit there like you didn't do anything!"

"Because I didn't do any-" Zaith tried again with a frustrated huff. But again he wasn't allowed to go much further.

"So things weren't going fast enough for you? Not everything was exactly as planned, eh? You tried to speed things up, ratted me out to those assholes and then 'rescued' me. I bet you thought I'd suddenly be getting all wet for my big Turian savior then right? You Blue Sun fuck!"

"I would never do that!" Zaith defended vehemently.

"You damn liar! Get the hell out of here! If I wasn't fucking bedridden, I 'd kill you myself!"

"Nix..." Zaith pleaded in frustration. He looked angry and hurt; bastard was putting on quite the show.

Nix wouldn't give his theatrics the time of day. She was finished dealing with him and his Blue Suns buddies. She was sick of enduring their crap. Nix didn't say anything else, just turned her head away from the treacherous Turian beside her.

Zaith didn't reply; perhaps he couldn't. He merely stood up again and walked to the door. She heard it open, but the familiar swoosh of it closing was delayed for a few seconds, as if he'd paused in front of it. Nix's head didn't move, and finally it swished shut.

A few seconds later, Nix heard a thump on a wall somewhere, but she didn't pay it much mind. Her head was still spinning with rage and hatred. How could she have been taken in like that? Led to believe that the Turian bastard was at least trustworthy aside from being a pain in the ass? Well, she wouldn't make a mistake like that ever again. That was the last time she'd ever let anyone pull the wool over her eyes.

Right now, she needed peace and quiet, to calm herself down. She was exhausted and just wanted to rest, although that was probably a bad idea since she'd just been in a coma. Maybe she could just turn her brain off for a little while and try to relax without falling asleep.

Unfortunately she didn't get that chance. The door opened again and someone else came barreling into the room, saying, "What was with that sad looking Turian leaving your room Nixxy? He even punched the wall outside. Left a damn good dent to. I wonder how much fixing something like that would cost...?"

Nix blinked once in confusion before snapping her head back to the doorway. If the extremely irritating nickname and preoccupation with the monetary value of some inane circumstance weren't dead giveaways, she would recognize that bubbly disposition anywhere.

Walking into the room was a human woman with emerald green eyes and frizzy red hair that was tied back so it looked like a fiery flower was blooming on the back of her head. Her skin was lightly tanned – a rarity on Omega considering it was a space station that had little to no access to sunlight – and her eyes glowed with calculations, as if she were assessing the value of every object that she looked at. The woman was dressed in a simple black tank top and khaki cargo pants, with black protective sleeves covering her arms from her biceps to her wrists. A simple necklace made of black leather cord dangled a dark blue stone shaped as a teardrop onto her chest.

"Tabitha?" Nix questioned, "What are you doing here?"

"Whaddya mean, 'what are you doing here'?" the woman repeated, looking offended. "Can't a girl visit a friend in the hospital?"

Nix just stared at her. Tabitha didn't do much of anything that didn't end up in her scalping a few creds. Besides, Nix hadn't thought they were close enough for her to come all the way to Gozu just to see her.

"Quit staring at me like that," Tabitha responded, now seeming annoyed, "I came here out of the goodness of my heart, I swear!"

Nix thought it was far more likely that she'd just happened to have a customer who wanted to come here and had just stopped by. Still, it wasn't like her to make side trips when money wasn't involved. But on the other hand, the woman did tend to be quite susceptible to whimsy at times.

"How'd you even find out I was here?" the courier inquired. It wasn't exactly as if she'd sent out a memo.

"Seriously?" Tabitha crossed her arms and scowled. "No, 'aw, Tabby, you're such a good friend for coming to visit me while I was comatose, how nice of you,' you just wanna grill me for info? Ugh, it never stops with you!"

Nix resumed her stare. It was pretty much her default response to most of Tabitha's outbursts.

Tabitha gave a disappointed huff and fingered her necklace. "Well, if you must know, that Turian out there that probably just broke his hand was the one who told me you were here."

That surprised Nix slightly. She wondered what motive he would have for doing something like that? Perhaps to keep up his appearance as a 'nice guy' or something. In any case, she wanted more information. "How did you two meet?"

"Well, I sent like six replies to your message without getting a response, and I was worried that you'd keeled over or something," Tabitha began as she moved from the doorway to lean against the wall next to Nix's bed. "I couldn't have that y'know; you're one of my primary sources of income after all. So I took the aircar over to Gozu-"

"Nice to hear you only think of me as a paycheck," Nix interjected dryly.

"Shut up. You wanna hear the story or not?" The courier clammed up. "…Good. So, I took the aircar and went to your place to find it crawling with Blue Suns goons."

The Suns? Why would they show up at her place? Sure, Zaith was one of them, but there wouldn't be any reason for him to call them up.

"Obviously I got a bit curious. I went up to one of them and asked what the hell was going on. They said a couple people had died in your apartment Nix, though they didn't specify who or why."

Nix was confused now. Who in the hell could have died in her apartment? It wasn't her; Zaith would have made sure his buddies had known he'd 'rescued' her, but there wasn't anyone else she could think of... unless, perhaps Zaith had betrayed those racketeer pricks to make himself look better.

"I was freaking the hell out by then! I kept thinking; 'What happened? Is she okay? Where will I get my extra creds now?' I was near desperate when your friend showed up. He asked me if I knew you or something, and I replied 'yes, she's an associate of mine.' He made a big show of asking me some questions about you y'know; things about your personality, your job, Cenobia and the like. Guess he wanted to verify I was legit or something; you could almost say he was being protective."

Nix snorted at that, but didn't say anything.

Tabitha eyeballed her, probably trying to gauge what she was thinking, but went back to her narrative without comment."Just when I was getting pissed off about his third degree, he finally came to the conclusion that I really knew you. After that, he told me that you'd been assaulted and were currently staying here. He even gave me directions, though he said he couldn't come. Busy investigating or something I suppose."

Nix shifted position, thinking about all of this new information. Everything Tabitha had recounted was pretty fishy. What was with the dead people in her apartment? Why did Zaith let Tabitha know where she was? And why in the hell was she suddenly doubting he had anything to do with her getting attacked?

"So uh..." Tabitha continued, "Is something going on with you and that merc?"

"Why would you ask that?" Nix replied in agitation, refusing to reflect further. Zaith was (hopefully) out of her hair for good; whether he was innocent or not didn't really matter at this point. Instead, she could now focus on debunking whatever idiotic ideas had popped into her associate's head.

"Well, I peeked in on him yesterday when I came to visit you again. He must have gotten here before me, because he was already at your bedside when I arrived. He was just sitting there, looking really worried; I let him be. He looked like he really cared about you, Nix."

"Nothing's 'going on' between us Tabitha. I don't even know why he stuck around as long as he did, or why he would do something like that," Nix answered through gritted teeth. In actuality, she did know why he'd stuck around, and if he was indeed innocent, also had an inkling as to why he would sit vigil next to her like that. But it was easier to just tell Tabitha that she didn't know; otherwise the other woman would pester her with questions for hours on end.

"So why was he so pissed off then? You two have a fight or something?"

"It was nothing," Nix returned instantaneously in the most noncommittal voice she could muster, as if she were commenting on what she'd had for lunch a few days ago.

"Well, you should try and make up with him then Nixxy; he actually seemed like a decent person. I think he'd be good for you," Tabitha said with sly smile.

"No. Is there anything else?"

"Jeeze, you're so cold! It was just joke y'know?"

"I know."

Tabitha sighed and shrugged. "Well, I suppose that's that then. Anyway, he told me that the Suns had cleared out of your house yesterday, so if you feel up to it, you want me to give ya a ride home?"

"For free?" Nix asked with a raised eyebrow. She wasn't teasing. It was a legitimate question.

Tabitha knew that instantly. "God, you must think I'm terrible. Like I would charge an injured friend for a ride!"

"I can't either way. I told the doctor I would stay for some tests."

"I can wait," Tabitha said, "It's not like I was expecting you to be awake today, and I don't have any more work, so I've got some time."

"Whatever then," Nix replied with a shrug. She supposed getting home in a car would be a lot easier than on some else's shoulder.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door, which was followed by Dr. Abrams walking in. "I was told you had company, but we're ready to begin the tests now. Considering your condition, they'll have to be conducted in your room, so if you and your guest could wrap things up..."

"That's fine, I was just about to go anyway," Tabitha answer with a dismissive wave of her arm. Turning back to Nix she said, "Later then Nixxy! Have fun being poked and prodded." With a devil's smile, she gave a little wave as she stepped out of the room.

Abrams muttered something about energy when the door had swished closed behind Tabitha. However, he said nothing further in that direction and got down to business. "Ready to begin?"

Nix sighed and rubbed her head wearily. "As I'll ever be."

…

The testing wasn't actually that bad. It only really consisted of a very large amount of scans with various devices that Nix couldn't even begin to comprehend, and a few actual pokes at her injuries to see if the artificial tissue on her stomach was going to hold up until her body could replace it. A similar process was also used to check if her arm was indeed set correctly. All in all, they took about an hour and a half before Abrams finally declared that she would be perfectly fine to leave. Unfortunately, she would still need someone to help her around; the clinic didn't loan out crutches or the like, for the obvious reason why you didn't let anyone borrow your stuff on Omega.

Still, as far as Nix was concerned at the time, she could figure it out later, and soon afterward she'd departed with Tabitha. They'd had to walk a little ways to get to a vehicle depot – as you couldn't just park an aircar wherever you wanted on Omega unless you wanted it to get stolen – but it was relatively painless. The ride was filled with Tabitha's usual chatter, which on occasion could be interesting or amusing, but at the time Nix wasn't really in the mood to be talked at. Then again, she almost never was.

After parking at another depot that was relatively close to Nix's alley, she and Tabitha had stumbled through the streets for a few minutes before arriving. To Nix's delight, Cenobia had been waiting for them at the entrance. He silently walked up to them as they approached, and Nix crouched slightly to scratch his head and murmur, "Hey there."

The courier was looking forward to being back home, in her own bed, surrounded by her own things. She hurt all over, from her head to her toes, and at that very moment she wanted to be off of her feet. With a smile, she found that her doorpad had been repaired, courtesy of the Suns' investigation she supposed. Nix and Tabitha then walked inside, with Cenobia on their heels. However, the smile dropped off of her face as soon as she saw that someone was waiting for them. And that someone was Zaith.

Needless to say, Nix was pissed. Though now reasonably sure he was innocent, she still found him extremely annoying, and as such was none too happy to see him. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure that everything was in order while I waited for you to cool down," Zaith replied seriously. "I'm glad you found someone to get you home though; something told me you'd be a bit resistant to being carried on _my _shoulder."

"Cut the crap merc," Nix growled, "I told you to get lost."

"I'm not just going to give up because you yelled at me Nix. Especially when you're wrong."

"Nixxy," Tabitha whispered into the courier's ear, "I think he's determined. Want me to kick his ass?"

"You think you can take him?"

"I was kinda hoping Cenobia would help me out."

"Yeah, that's probably not going to happen."

"Damn!"

"Listen idiot," Nix said, turning back to Zaith, "You're not wanted here. I can get along just fine without you. So fuck off!"

The Turian seemed to consider this for a moment. Then, "No. You _aren't_ able to get along without me. Your friend there can't – or perhaps won't – just up and quit her job for a week to help you out, and unless I'm mistaken, she's the only other person who could. From the look of you, you still can't get around without someone to help you. And I have some experience in that department."

"Uhh, Nixxy? He sorta has a point."

"Not helping Tabitha!"

"So you agree," Zaith said with a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall.

"What the hell? There's no way I'd agree with you!" Nix responded indignantly.

"Come on Nix, stop being stubborn." The merc's face fell. "You can't still believe that I had something to do with what happened can you?"

"You're damned right I do!" She would not let a chance to be rid of him forever slip through her fingers, whether it was the truth or not.

Zaith picked up on the slight hesitation before she answered. "I can tell you don't believe that. Come on Nix, I'm not so bad."

Nix gritted her teeth in frustrated rage. She could not let this annoying prick have another chance.

"Nix," Tabitha piped in, "Stop being stubborn eh? I don't think you believe yourself either, and besides, you're getting free labor."

Nix threw a look of pure hatred at Tabitha. "You have absolutely no idea how much I loathe you right now." The cabbie shrugged in response.

Cenobia quietly padded up beside Nix. Zaith made a face and took a few steps back for some reason, but the courier barely registered his reaction. The dog butted his head up into his master's limp hand, as if telling her to just give in. Even her own pet had turned against her.

This could not be happening. Why in the hell was this happening? She finally thought she was free, but once again, she had no choice. Barely containing her rage, Nix breathed, "I hate you," in Zaith's direction, and then had Tabitha take her to her room.

Behind them, Zaith quietly smiled in relief. He was happy that she was well enough to spout insults at him, and what was more he'd been able to smooth things over. Her coma had come as a surprise, and he was still worried, but hopefully she would prove to be just fine in the coming week. And, of course, he hadn't forgotten his initial goal.

* * *

**AN: Next time: the actual plot will finally begin! Thanks for reading!**


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